


Gone

by vict_xria



Category: Phan, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 07:44:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9374969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vict_xria/pseuds/vict_xria
Summary: Two years.It had been two years since Dan had set foot in his and Phil’s flat. Two years since he had taken the last of what he wanted. Two years since he had left behind his life. Two years since he had been home.Songfic based on "Gone" by Bebe Rexha





	

Two years.

It had been two years since Dan had set foot in his and Phil’s flat. Two years since he had taken the last of what he wanted. Two years since he had left behind his life. Two years since he had been home.

Of course, he had gotten his own flat. It was quite comfortable, too. But it wasn’t so much the  _ flat _ , but the feeling of home that was absent. The home Dan had been missing for two years.

He wasn’t sure what it was that made him return to the place that he once spent all his days in. Perhaps it was the recent anniversary of a specific date in October that would forever haunt his heart. Maybe it was the insomnia that had overtaken his nights for the last couple of years. Or perhaps it was simply the nagging feeling of guilt that had never quite left.

Nonetheless, there he was, standing in front of the building that held Dan’s dearest memories--or what were  _ supposed  _ to be his dearest memories. So why could he only think of the darkest? 

The apprehensive man took a few steps forward as a thousand and one thoughts raced through his mind. Thoughts of apologies, pain, fleeting feelings of love, everything someone with the responsibility of breaking the purest thing on Earth could possibly think. 

The break up was entirely Dan’s fault, and he knew it. It was his isolation, his neglection, his ignorance that ruined the one true constant he had in his life. It was him who ended a relationship that affected not one, not two, but  _ millions _ . 

Rain splattered on the pavement as he entered the building. Silence enveloped the inside as shouts and screams and cries filled his head. Shaking away the memories to the best of his ability, he ascended the steps to his past.

It seemed as if he were the last man on Earth as he walked up the steps to his old flat. The only sounds came from the rainstorm outside and the creaking of the stairs with every step, and the only light came from the dimly lit hallway lights. He wondered if he could’ve used the dull light source as some sort of metaphor for his life, but he was too distraught to put too much thought to it. 

He reached the familiar doorway in what felt like hours (in reality, it had only been a few minutes), and suddenly, in what felt like at once, his body drained of all emotion: Dan felt nothing. No guilt, no sorrow, no yearning, nothing. It was strange--after two years of nothing but the pressing emotion of what he had done, he finally felt nothing, almost  _ empty _ .

Dan stood outside the doorway, staring ahead at the barrier between him and his home, or at least what it used to be. He couldn’t help but to feel the absence of love, a feeling that he had been so used to be exposed to in abundance. 

After giving himself a few more moments to turn away, and after realizing turning away was something he would not do, Dan nervously raised a fist to the blank canvas and gave a few short pounds, hoping his presence could once again add color. 

About a minute passed before he began to wonder whether or not he should turn around and make a run for it. He was just in the process of turning, his head turned away, when the sound of a door slowly opening stopped him in his tracks. It wasn’t until a familiar voice whispered, “Dan?” in disbelief that he closed his eyes and cautiously turned back towards the door.

Dan opened his eyes to a tsunami of emotions, picking him up and carrying him back to what used to be. He stared ahead at the familiar face in front of him, overcome with emotion. He didn’t know what to say-- _ what do you say to someone who used to be your entire world?  _

Dan felt a bitter taste in his mouth and an oncoming sob threatening to escape. It wasn’t  _ fair.  _ Yes, the ultimate demise of their happiness was his fault, but it still wasn’t fair. They had tried so hard all these years. They had gone through so much. Everything for nothing

After a few moments of silent staring, Phil cleared his throat.

“Um, would you like to come in?” he questioned a bit louder than Dan expected. In fact, Dan actually jumped at the proposition. 

“Uh, yeah,” he responded with a bit of hesitation. He choked back the sob, willing it away in persistence of not unraveling in front of the other man. Phil, however, just gave him a small smile as he stepped back, letting Dan into his old home. 

The flat hadn’t changed much since Dan had last seen it. In fact, it felt exactly as it did when he left two years ago. He could still see the small random trinkets adjourning the lounge as he took a few steps in, and Phil’s laptop was left haphazardly on “his side” of the couch, slightly open. Dan figured Phil had been in the middle of editing as he saw iMovie open on the screen as he took a seat in his old sofa crease. 

Dan took a few breaths as he tried to adjust to his surroundings. He was so focused on the room and the emotions it held that he hadn’t noticed Phil’s absence until he entered with two mugs. Wordlessly, he set one down in front Dan before pushing his laptop aside and sitting down in his own spot. 

Dan was at a loss for words. With obviously trembling hands, Dan picked up the mug and raised it to his lips, cautiously tasting the hot liquid before it trickled down his throat.

Tea with milk and two sugars, just like he had always liked it. Phil had remembered.

Th emotion Dan was overcome with was indescribable. So much, in fact, that he barely registered Phil’s voice when he spoke up after.

“So how have you been?” the elder asked politely as he set down his own mug on the coffee table.

It took a minor internal breakdown for Dan to answer.

“Fine,” he answered coolly, as he mimicked Phil’s previous movement with his own mug. “And you?”

“The same,” Phil answered rather shortly. Silence once again overtook the room as Dan wondered how it came to the point where he couldn’t hold a normal conversation with the very person he had lived for all these years. Dan wanted to scream in frustration and curse out everything except Phil. 

He wasn’t sure when he had become such an emotional person after two years of pure coldness, and it scared him.

There was one thing that Dan and Phil were always experts at, and that was saying things in sync. Whether it be yelling the same phrases at the same time during video games or simply answering friends with the same answer, the trait had always made others wonder whether or not they shared some sort of psychic connection. And it seemed that this trait hadn’t quite disappeared after two years, as Dan found himself pleading, “Would you give me one more chance?” at the same time Phil questioned, “Why are you here?”

The two froze in their seats, unable to look at anything other than their respective mugs. As he melted in his embarrassment, the quiet gave Dan the chance to notice Phil had given him the Hello Kitty mug.

“I-I mean, um--” Dan looked around, desperate for something else to distract him from the moment at hand. And it was this that caused him to notice the stack of familiar books that remained on the bookshelf. The books that he and Phil dedicated years of their lives to. The books that held their story.

And so Dan Howell cried.

He cried over the books. He cried because he knew it was all over. He cried because he knew he couldn’t take anything back. He cried because he knew he couldn’t take what had happened back. He cried because the world he had come to love was dead. He cried over the one wish he had yearned over for two years. He cried for the second chance he knew he’d never get. 

But most of all, he cried because it only took a few seconds for Phil to instinctively close the space between them to comfort Dan. Phil wrapped his arms around his former lover, and Dan fell into the embrace of his former world. 

And Dan cried harder, because after two years of being sick of feeling empty, he was finally whole again.

Two years. 

It’s been two years since Dan returned to his and Phil’s flat. Two years since he had been given back what was his. Two years since he had come back to his life. Two years since he had returned home.

And now, two years, later, Dan was smiling with joy as he made his way down his hallway to his and Phil’s bedroom, shutting off all the lights on his way and fantasizing about what type of night light they would put in their future child’s room.

“Hurry up!” Phil whined as Dan took a few steps into their bedroom. Dan said nothing as he climbed into bed, pulling the sheets over him and his world as Phil wrapped his arms safely around him. 

Dan relished in the silence and serenity of their new house as he listened to Phil’s breathing begin to slow. He glanced down at his lover’s left hand and grinned at the moonlight reflecting off the silver wrapped around it. 

“I love you,” Dan whispered as if it were a secret for only the two to know.

“I love you, too,” Phil answered, equally as secretive.

And with that, Dan felt all fear and sadness slip away until they were completely gone. 


End file.
